


Crime of the Century

by HappyFabulousManatee



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Both of them got dragged into this shitfest, Clint is the ultimate wingman, Cop Tony, Criminal Stephen, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Mostly Crack, Someone give Tony Stark a break, Stephen is a flirt, Tony is a gay mess and we all know it, Tony is just really tired, Wong just wants to live his life, bear with me, bless them both, pls love me, the entire heist makes no sense, this whole fic is on drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 14:23:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17184656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyFabulousManatee/pseuds/HappyFabulousManatee
Summary: Tony just wants to catch Magicman so he can catch a break. What's a cop got to do?~In which Stephen is a suave criminal and Tony is very tired and should not be this affected by that silver-tongued fox. That's just so unprofessional, Tony, pull yourself together, geez.~I told the discord server once upon a time I would do this and I finally did pls love me as much as I love Ironstrange u guys i need the motivation in my life thanks





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE KNOW THAT @Ireallylovesorbet helped me betaed AGAIN and i love her a lot thanks boo honestly idk how u deal with my shit half the time you're a blessing

Tony rubbed his face as the numbers went on and on on the computer screen. They haze into a blur as his brain struggles to catch on the endless stream, with little success. With a creasing sigh, his hands drag down over his formerly prim goatee. Multiple shifts in a row resulted in shadows all over, the hair growing wild under no one’s watch. 

“I deserve a raise,” Tony grumbled as he got up to get another cup of coffee. 

 

At the cubicle beside him, Clint raised his cup to that. “Amen. Mind getting me cup too?”

 

“Yeah I mind. You're getting fat, Barton.” Tony jabbed but he took his cup along with him anyway. His best friend and partner Rhodey’s got shot in the leg in his last raid so he was taking a couple months of leave to heal. Clint Barton was filling in for his honeybear in the meantime but after a few weeks of working with the guy, Tony decided he liked the chill dude. 

 

“Love you!” Clint called after him. He turns around, grinning widely before stretching back on his chair spread-eagle, groaning dramatically.

 

Just another part of trying to track Magicman’s next move. 

 

Meanwhile in the pantry the coffee machine is taking its damn time starting up again. Not that Tony minds, already losing himself in an aimless pace around the room. A perfect steady rhythm for him to recall all the details all the way back to step one when it all started.

 

With a small robbery. 

 

It was nothing too extreme then. Just a couple of watches from some well-to-do guy’s collection, nothing much to bat an eye at. It wasn't Tony’s team that got that job, so he wasn't quite clear on the details. 

 

From what he knew the robber couldn’t be tracked down, but that was a somewhat normal thing too, if not a familiar spray of salt on old wounds at detective work. The only thing that finally garnered attention about the case was that the watches were returned to their owner three weeks later in pristine condition. It was as though it was an elaborate prank, but Tony had a weird feeling that it was the robber’s way of testing the waters. 

 

And he was right.

 

Seven weeks later, another robbery from another equally prosperous couple, just platinum and gold bracelets were taken this time. And in the same manner, they were returned to their owners.

 

This happened two more times with rings of precious stones and an antique pocket watch before the officials decided to do something about their curious robber. The cops all called the robber Magicman. It was a pretty dumb name but it stuck, since the things just magically disappear and appear from wherever they came from. 

 

Either way, they needed to solve the case soon. People in the nearby neighbourhoods were all on the edge.

 

Tony scoffed at that. Rich people and their insecurities.

 

When he returned to his desk, Chief Fury strode in like a grim reaper, his single eye looking stern as ever.

 

“Stark, Barton, how're the patrols going? Any progress?” He asked, before narrowing his eyes at Clint’s feet on his table but Clint just grinned at him, “Hey, boss. Last time you checked was fifty minutes ago but no, we're still stuck. The teams are still out there with na-dah.”

 

“You need to step on it.” Fury growled. Tony was too tired to even diss him out, but Clint wasn’t. 

 

“Chief, honestly, we’re just detectives. We’re trying here.” Clint tried.

Fury’s glare snaps to Clint. The latter takes a sip of his coffee, completely unperturbed. “What's the hurry anyway? Magicman always returns the shit he steals.”

 

“What I'm concerned about is once he stops returning. He's leading us on a merry chase of round-the-mulberry-bush, and I don't like it.” Fury snapped.

 

“We only have four cases to look over, Chief. All we know is that he probs has a hand fetish and really slippery fingers.” Tony explained as calmly as he could, trying to save his temp partner’s ass from the one-eyed pirate thug. Geez, it’s nice to know their boss thinks they’re miracle workers, but honestly there’s only so much a detective can do. 

 

With nothing to snap back with, Fury left the room, furious.

 

Tony sighed before taking another sip, musing, “I hope Magicman makes an appearance soon so Fury can get off our asses.” 

 

Clint hummed in agreement.

 

***

Tony’s wish came true that night. 

 

They just finished a half-assed dinner of instant mac and cheese at Clint’s place when the radio came on.

 

“ _ Calling for backup at 75, Boulevard! I repeat, backup at 75, Boulevard! Magicman’s on the move! _ ” 

 

“I literally just sat down.” Clint protested, as he had just came back from toilet break. They were technically off duty but Clint’s home was a few blocks away from Boulevard. And Fury knew it. The Chief would be on their asses if he knew they didn't join the parade.

 

“Come on.” Tony said as he stood up, wanting to get this over with. If they caught Magicman tonight, he might actually get a raise.

 

“Not my division.”

 

“Barton, I swear, I will break your other ball.” Tony snapped as he kicked the blond’s chair while he puts on his coat and swiped his keys from the table. Clint groans like a petulant child, as he puts on his own jacket and the duo were en route to the Boulevard.

 

The Boulevard was literally the land of the rich. Sports cars, designer houses, the whole nine yards. Literally.

 

When they got to 75, Boulevard, there were three police cars already on stand by. Tony and Clint showed their badges to the guarding official at the perimeter, who nodded and waved them towards the closest vehicle, “Sergeant Rogers will update you on the details.”

 

Oh man. Rogers. Tony disliked the man. All blond and big and stuffy. His whole team (which is literally just two other people, Barnes and Wilson) all looked like they had sticks up their asses with abs and pecs that large. It was no wonder they’re usually on the front lines.

 

He tried his best to avoid any contact with them if he could, except Natasha, who was usually assigned to undercover jobs. She’s wily and smart, even though a bit untrustworthy sometimes. She stole his week’s worth of sandwiches once. No way is he letting that go. 

 

Rogers spotted Tony and waved him over. “Okay, we got Magicman locked in but he still refuses to come out. The Hawthornes refused to let us smoke him out and now we’re in stuck in a stalemate.” Rogers updated. The Hawthornes were an influential family, and they had a sway on the police department. No one really dared to get on their bad side. Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose. This is going to make things complicated.

 

“Anyone inside?” Tony asked, assessing the four-storied country home. All the lights were out.  The design of the house was bit tacky but acceptable. 

 

“Nope, the whole family was out. We tried taking in some guys but the Hawthornes stopped us. They think we were going to ruin their wooden flooring.” Rogers grumbled bitterly. 

 

“Where are they now?”

 

“With Bucky and Sam. They’re acting as bodyguards for the Hawthornes.” Rogers explained, his head angling to the other direction. Tony and Clint peeked over to see the family of gingers huddled together at the curb, with a very bored Barnes and an equally bored Wilson standing guard on either side of them.

 

“Guess we’ll do it the nice, old-fashioned way then; diplomacy.” Tony sighed and nodded at Clint, “You want to take it?”

 

“No way, buddy. You can go charm Magicman. I’ll be right here to check for accomplices.” Clint waved his hand at Tony, smirking. Tony rolled his eyes before grabbing a megaphone, moving to sit on the top of the car.

 

He lifted the megaphone and turned it on. A blaring ringing scream cut into his ear drums. He flinched back, until the static fades, before cocking it to his mouth. “Okay, bud. There’s only one of me coming in so don’t shoot. I just wanna talk, real simple.” 

 

When he was done he threw the megaphone at a startled Rogers. Most people in the force knew Tony and his silver tongue, making him a spotlight star at interrogation and negotiations. He takes these stuff like how a fish takes to water.

 

With his gun out, loaded and ready, he starts pacing into the house. 

 

“Hey, I’m coming in now! Don’t shoot at anything. I can’t pay some of the stuff here, so do me a solid, yeah?” Tony called into the darkness. Nobody replied or moved, so he took it as an okay.

 

“So buddy, you gonna show your face to me or are we all gonna crash at some rich guy’s house? Honestly, I don’t mind the latter because I’ve been tracking your stupid ass for three weeks and man I’m beat. So how about we settle this quickly so we can all get a break, huh?” Tony monologue as he passed from one room to the next, eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. It’s still hard to make out the unfamiliar terrain, and he’d bumped into a few things as he ventured.

 

“Hey, I’m just going to turn on the light here, I’m don’t have bionic vision like you.” Tony cautioned as he flipped on a switch. It turned on a rather soft yellow light, and Tony found himself in a wide expanse of a library. Tall dark oak shelves were filled to the brim with books Tony wasn’t even sure if they were true literature or decorations at this point. There was even a winding staircase. 

 

He whistled, looking about, “This is some Beauty and The Beast behind the scenes, don’t you agree?”

In the corner of his eyes, a slender figure stalked in the shadows on the second floor. Tony saw the long elegant legs and his brain shortwired. He whipped out his gun faster than he could blink.

 

“Holy fuck, you're a woman?” Tony blurts.

 

An unmistakably masculine voice chuckles at that, so deep he felt like drowning in it. “You must be a pretty bad detective if you think that.” 

 

…. Okay.

 

Tony was not blushing at that. Of course not, everyone makes mistakes. He was definitely not bothered at the fact that the voice was so smooth and silky and enchanting. God, Tony must be really tired if he was suddenly attracted to a dude’s voice.

 

The figure climbed down the staircase before darting daintily like a fairy every three steps to land a few ways in front of Tony, but still remained hidden in the shadows.

 

“Quit acting mysterious and show your face.” Tony barked, his gun still cocked at the intruder.

 

“Oh, but Mister Detective, I'm shy.” The voice purred, a single foot stepping into the dim light. Tony doesn’t miss how coyly it points at him. Is this robber seriously trying to seduce him? Dammit.

 

Tony called bullshit. He snorted, and an idea came to him.

 

“Okay, how about I put the big bad gun away and we have some small talk?” Tony said, tucking his only means of defense back into his holster.

 

Two feet stepped into the light, but the robber hummed, “Maybe if you call your team away from the perimeter, I might even come closer still.”

 

Tony sighed, raising his hands in the air, “Come on buddy, I'm just trying to do my job. I’m tired of chasing your damn ass everywhere.”

 

A hand came to the light and waggled sternly, “Now, now, Mister Detective. I'm just doing my job too. Let us come to a compromise.”

 

Tony let out a groan before pressing his face to the radio on his shoulder, “Stand back a few.”

 

_ Ya, sure bout that, Tony? _ Clint’s crinkly reply came.

 

“Affirmative.”

 

There were sounds of guns, clicking into soft echoes as the front line moved back from the house.

 

“Good boy.” Tony bristled a bit at the pet name as Magicman hummed in satisfaction, “Now here, have your reward.” 

 

Tony had no idea how to react.

 

The robber was hot. A slim fitted suit accentuated every angle and curve of a well toned body Tony was slightly jealous of (he has a good body too, just maybe not that height). A set of night-vision goggles sat in his soft-looking hair, a few bangs falling over his high forehead in an attractive way. But his eyes were what drew Tony in, stunning blue-green eyes as smug and proud as they were closed off and dangerous. It reminded Tony of that documentary on icebergs in Antarctica. 

 

“Cat got your tongue, detective?” Magicman smirked knowingly, placing a hand on his hip as those glacial eyes looked him up and down, as if Tony himself was ravishing in the three day old denim jeans and coat.

 

With some effort Tony managed to get his mind back on track. “So how many questions do I get, Puck? Or are you going to disappear in a puff of smoke?” He snarked.

 

Magicman smirk widened, “Ooh, Shakespeare. You're cultured. Alright then, I like a man with taste. You get four questions before I Houdini away."

 

Tony thought hard. 

 

“Why steal and return the things? You could’ve pawned them off and get rich.” 

 

Magicman hummed thoughtfully, “Not fun enough. Next.”

 

“Do you have any accomplices? Partner, minions, evil henchmen, whatever.” Tony shrugs. 

 

“Bold of you to assume that I work alone. Do I seem so insufferable to lack companions?” Magicman sniffed indignantly, as if he was offended. The playful smirk said otherwise.

 

“It’s only been two minutes since we first talked and I already want to throw you off a building, so yeah, you seem pretty insufferable to me.” Tony quipped back. He was definitely not enjoying this talk with this clever mouth. He’s just wants to do his job. 

 

Magicman clicked his tongue, wagging his finger at Tony, “Naughty. You only get one question left.”

 

“You asked me a question, so you owe me, fairy princess.” Tony smirked.

 

Magicman blinked before crossing his arms, the smile on his face was almost genuine. “You caught me. Okay, you get those two questions back. Tick tock.”

 

“What is your last goal?”

 

Magicman’s gaze was too sharp this time around. Tony held his ground as he stared dead back. Finally the man sighed as he took another two steps closer. Tony fought the itch to grab his gun.

 

“Someone out there has something that belongs to me. I'm practicing to steal it back. The people whose things I take from have no quarrel with me that's why they get their precious jewelry back.” Magicman sighed. Tony almost believed him.

 

“Okay, fine. Last question, will you be killing anyone for said thing?” 

 

Magicman looked almost surprised at that question. He tilted his head at Tony, like a curious cat.

 

“Why would you ask something as dumb as that?”

 

Tony smirked childishly, “Owe me another one.”

 

Tony did not see it coming. He prided in his fast reflexes but Magicman had extremely swift feet. 

 

Suddenly he was on the ground with his hands in cuffs above his head with Magicman straddling his stomach. He patted Tony down slowly and deliberately. Then with a flirtatious wink, he took out his wallet with a flourish. Tony should not be feeling this attracted to a common robber who was thumbing through the contents of his wallet.

 

_ But he’s no common robber _ , the small traitorous voice in his mind supplied,  _ Smart and cute, what else could you possibly ask for? _

 

_ Shut the  _ **_fuck_ ** _ up,  _ Tony berated himself. 

 

“Next time we meet, you’ll be the one in cuffs, Magicman.” Tony growled angrily, partly out of annoyance at the man and partly out of frustration at himself for letting his guard down.

 

Magicman looked over his driver’s license with a smug smile, “That’s so kinky, Stark. I think I’m already falling in love with you.” 

 

He gave his card a peck, and the way he did made Tony feel things, which were not necessarily uncomfortable. Magicman’s eyes looks back at Tony as he returned his wallet into his pocket, and Tony felt a strange rush of  _ something _ inside him. Magicman leaned down, his mouth close to Tony’s ear, his hand cupping the radio on Tony’s shoulder. 

 

His facial hair tickled the shell of Tony’s ear as he whispered, “Meet me at the corner of 49th street on Friday, eleven pm, alone, and I might actually be convinced to call this whole thing off.”

 

Tony felt his breath hitched when Magicman nibbled his earlobe lightly, “Oh, and the name’s Stephen.” He stood up in a single smooth movement, gave Tony a mock salute and headed towards the back, no doubt already escaping on his merry way.  

 

“It’s a date!” Stephen voice called back from the darkness and Tony groaned as he lets his head thump against the floor. Fury is  _ so _ going to kill him.

  
  


*****

And once again, he’s right. 

 

Tony rubbed his temple, groaning at the throbbing headache. Sure he got some important information from Steph- _ Magicman _ , but--“You could’ve apprehended him, Stark! You were  _ this _ close!” Yadah yadah yadah. Tony left out the “date” part for obvious reasons. He didn’t want to break Stephe- **_MAGICMAN’S_ ** trust. What the hell? Why would Tony give a flying rat’s ass about some amateur robber’s trust anyway? But he feels like it’s important to meet him alone, somehow.

 

Tony dropped his head on his folded arms. Why on Earth can’t he get Magicman out of his head?! It’s seriously putting him off. Did that slimy bastard put a spell on him or something?

 

“Man, I almost feel bad for you.” Clint offered as he placed a cuppa on Tony’s desk.

 

Tony’s soft muffled “Fuck you, Brat-on.” against his arms was received and chuckled at. “You really need some rest, budster. Your insults are getting lame.” Clint lamented, giving the poor brunet a pat on the back.

 

“Hey, guys?” A voice called out to them quietly. Tony snaps his head up, brightening. 

 

“Brucie! Please tell me you’ve got some good news!” He pleaded, pulling his puppy eyes card. Bruce leaned on the entrance door, smiling softly before waving him over. 

 

“I think I got something you’d like.”

 

Clint and Tony exchanged glances before following the officer into the logistics room. 

 

Bruce was more of a desk worker than a police officer, better with numbers and evaluation than being out on the field, even though he’s forced out once or twice. The only partner that had went on the field with him had pretty unbelievable stories of how he can single-handedly disarm three big gunmen in a fit of rage. It’s hard to believe that the sweet, sweater-swaddling man standing in front of him could snap a femur with his bare hands.

 

Bruce gestured for them to close the door before they settled into the crowded room of computer screens. “So, I think I kinda found out who our Magicman is.” Bruce said, pulling at the sleeves of his lavender pullover. 

 

Tony almost leaped out of his seat as he leaned forward to squint at the picture in Bruce’s phone.

 

“How the fu-” Tony breathed, his hands shaking so hard he almost dropped the phone. In the picture, a wary Stephen was looking over his shoulder, his hands pulling his coat collar up to hide those ridiculous cheekbones. He almost looked like he was modelling for a magazine.

 

“A friend of mine sent this to me this morning when I was pulling out feelers for Magicman. And get this-” Bruce started tapping away at his personal computer, before showing Clint and Tony, “-, Magicman is actually from an extremely wealthy family. Not sure what happened when their family went quiet a few years ago but they’re more or less alive and well. And this guy here, Magicman, his real name is Stephen Vincent Strange. He studied as a neurosurgeon in Yale. He’s got a traffic ticket a few times but that’s all I got on him. His records are really clean.” 

 

“Neurosurgery to robbery? That’s a big job switch. Strange guy.” Clint mused, as he looked over the records Bruce pulled up, his lips twitching with mirth at the pun. Then he grew quiet as he looked through all of the records.

 

“If he’s clean, then how do you know it’s Magicman?” Clint asked suspiciously, scrutinizing Bruce as he leaned against the desk beside him.

 

Bruce turned to look at Tony, almost guiltily, “I didn’t know for sure, so I decided to ask Tony, since only he’d seen Magicman. And well, you saw. Tony recognized him.” 

 

Tony never felt more scandalized in his life. Clint turned back to look at him as the he shifted in his seat, hiking an eyebrow. 

 

Tony looked away, fiddling his thumbs over the screen of Bruce’s phone and eyeing the man in the picture instead, “Well, do you have something to share with the class?”

 

Tony knew he was placed in a corner. He took a deep breath, and confessed. “He said that he was practicing robbery to take back what belonged to him. But then he offered me a bargain, saying I could actually talk him out of this entire fiasco.” Tony explained quickly, still not looking at the other two. “Fury doesn’t know.”

 

They were silent for a long moment before he heard Clint snort, “So he’s asked you out on a date? Big deal. Guess this case is closed then.” 

 

Tony looks up, twisting his face into a scowl. “We haven’t caught St- Magicman yet! What are you on about, Clint?!” He demanded, glaring daggers. “I'm sure you can talk him out of it, so case’s closed, man. It's foolproof.” Clint winked at him and Tony’s eyebrows knotted in annoyance. 

 

Bruce pats Tony’s knee with a small smile, “We’ve been friends for years, Tony. I know you’d never let a criminal out of your sight when you get them, especially if they’re five feet away from you.”

 

“And I found you on the floor in cuffs and a sad puppy look in your eyes,” Clint supplied, “I know a crush when I see one, bud.” He thought for a moment before grinning widely, “He seems like an okay guy. You have my blessings.”

 

“I have no idea what you two are blabbing about. Anyway, I’ve got a criminal to negotiate with. I need a plan. You two can be crazy together.” Tony shot back, returning the phone to Bruce who only smiled at him knowingly. That smile made Tony feel anxious on every level possible. He glared at the two of them and left the room in a huff.

 

Once Tony’s footsteps fell into a whisper, Clint turns to Bruce. “So, who’s the mystery source?”

 

“There’s always a network I keep in touch with if I ever need anything.” Bruce provided with a shrug. Clint feels that’s all he’s getting from the man so he just brushed it off.

 

“So, how do you think this’ll end?” Clint asked conversationally.

 

“With luck, splendidly on all sides. No more weird robberies, no more antsy Fury and-” 

 

“And Stark finally gets laid.”

 

The both of them grinned at each other and fist-bumped. They wouldn’t need to worry about this case anymore.

 

****

Tony shifted from one foot to another, breathing into the cool autumn air. The streetlamps painted the pavements and the road cool yellow colours, illuminating the dark reds and oranges of the trees alongside the street. Only a diner or two were left open, with a few people loitering inside. Tony could hear the rowdy bar on the far end of the street. He saw a few young adults leaving the bar laughing madly, drunk with booze and youth. 

 

Tony had came a little earlier than expected, scouting the area with hawk eyes but he couldn’t spot anything out of ordinary. Tony glanced at his watch again.

 

Three minutes to eleven. 

 

He looked around again, wondering why on earth Strange called him out in the first place. It didn’t make any sense. He was a criminal, albeit a clean one with a single motive and nice since he returned all those expensive jewelry. But still. Tony didn’t understand, and he doesn’t like it. 

 

There must be a trap somewhere. 

 

“Well, I certainly didn’t think you’d take me up on that offer, but thank you for not disappointing me.” Tony jolted at the sultry voice. He turned to see Strange leaning against the fence, his hand cupping his chin as he smiled serenely at Tony. He didn’t even notice the man’s presence. But Tony quickly recovered.

 

“Of course not, Mom didn’t raise a rude bitch.” Tony said as he turned to face Strange, “Besides, I still need to stop you at your game.”

 

Strange sighed with a pouty look, “Oh come now, Stark. This is a date. Let’s not talk about work.”

 

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, “Wasn’t work the whole point of us meeting up? If not, I’ll just leave.”

 

“Without arresting me?” Strange mock gasped, “I almost think you like me, Stark.”

 

“It’s too troublesome to arrest a clean man. I need to get more dirt on you.” Tony quipped. Without realizing it, Tony followed Strange as he walked along the street. The men were throwing sass back and forth as they strolled side-by-side. 

 

“You hurt me, Stark.” Strange mock-pouted as he tucked his bright red scarf to fit his neck a little more snugly, “I’m no criminal.” Tony noted the atrocious colour and he is  **_thisclose_ ** to pulling the ends of the scarf to strangle the criminal’s pretty neck.

 

“And yet you asked if I was not going to arrest you three minutes ago.” Tony couldn’t help it if his mouth twitched up at the checkmate.

 

“Touch é . Now come, what do you say we settle at a nice bar and have a drink or two? I’m absolutely famished for a glass of whiskey.” Tony mused at how easily Strange slipped out of the subject, like an eel.

 

Before he knew it, they were seated in the corner of a quiet bar with soft lighting and calm jazz undertones. Only a few patrons loitered in the place, talking amongst themselves in hushed voices.

 

“Nice place. And the price isn’t too bad.” Tony observed as he took in his surroundings. 

 

“Yes, and they have one of the better selections of alcohol.” Strange agreed as he took a sip of whiskey. Tony tried his best to pretend that he wasn’t affected by the way the man closed his eyes and hummed in satisfaction, licking his lips. He looked almost sinful as he gave a contented sigh. Tony tried to change the subject, tearing his eyes away from the man.

 

“So what’s your story?” Tony asked, focusing on his own untouched glass.

 

Strange placed his cup down with a quiet chuckle, “We’re airing dirty laundry on first base? That’s new.”

 

Tony turns back to Strange to shoot him a glare but he immediately regretted it. Piercing glacial eyes were watching him carefully, and from this angle, Tony could see how large the man’s pupils were. He quickly disregarded it as the trick of light as he jabbed, “This is more like an interrogation. Hurry up, Strange. I don’t have all night.”

 

This time, it was Strange who seemed taken aback, but that was before he broke into a shit-eating grin. 

“So you stalked me, huh? Knew you had a crush on me.” 

 

“What?” Tony was confused before it dawned on him. Strange only gave him his first name when they met. Tony only knew of his full name because of Bruce. “I’m a detective. It’s my job, dumbass.” Tony snapped, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. 

 

“Aww, let me have my fantasies, Stark.” Strange sighed with an amused smile, placing his cheek in his hand, “But okay, I’ll tell you everything. Only because you’re cute.” 

 

Suddenly, Strange grew serious as he leaned forward to look deeply into Tony’s eyes, “In return, you’ll help me get what I want.”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes, “So, you want a cop to help you steal something. Are you sure you’re barking up the right tree here, buddy?”

 

“Oh, I am.” Stephen purred, “I’m sure you will, once I’m done with my tragic backstory.”

 

“Oh yeah? Try me, Harry Potter.” Tony crossed his arms defiantly.

 

It took a moment, but soon, Strange delved into the full story. 

 

“The Asta music box had been passed down for generations, its origin traced back to royalty in Scandinavia. For generations, it acted as a form of blessing from parent to child.”

 

“So what’s it gotta do with you? It’s just another old thing.” Tony jabbed. He didn’t come here for fairytales.

 

Strange furrowed his eyebrows, “It belonged to my great-grandmother.”

 

Tony gave a soft “Oh.” and fell silent. Although Strange went on with tale, Tony didn't missed the small amused quirk of his eyebrow. 

 

“They were in debt, so my great--grandfather decided to pawn off the relic in hopes of getting cash to survive. Of course, my great-grandmother was devastated. My grandmother had grown up with that song, and she passed the song down to my mother, then to me. But,” Strange faltered for a moment before he cleared his throat, “But for years, my mother tried to relocate the music box. My grandmother told her that the notes on the piano paled in comparison of the music box, and she wished with all her heart to listen to the original one. We tried everything we could to look for it, any legal methods possible. But for a long time, Asta had eluded us.”

 

Then, Stephen’s face twisted in disgust. “But recently, it’s been sighted and bought by a man named Justin Hammer. Or more specifically, his fourth wife.”

 

Tony narrowed his eyebrows. He knew that bastard. Justin Hammer is a bloody asshole. A man with too many riches and not enough conscience. A clean man on the outside, but behind his back, his hands are dripping with the black ooze of crime. His division had been trying to pin the man down for  _ years _ but the guy managed to slink away every time. Every company that were exposed for dealing illegal drugs to artifacts to people were all connected to one source. But his army of lawyers always manage to take him out of the justice. Although the police couldn't do anything about the man, he would dearly love to payback.

 

Stephen leaned forward to smile conspiratorially at Tony, “Now do you see why I'm asking for your help?”

 

As tempting as it was….

 

“I still want to hear the full reason, Strange.” Tony said, whiskey brown eyes staring at the taller man, who had his eyes cast down. 

 

Stephen took a moment before he nodded in understanding before folding his hands on the table, smiling in a self-deprecating way, “Like why I would want to break and enter the country’s most wily underlord just for a music box?”

 

He took a deep inhale before looking back up to Tony. Tony felt his heart stuttered at the overwhelming sincerity in Strange’s eyes as he spoke.

 

“Because my mother is dying. That song would be the final gift to her.”

 

Tony felt a chill ran up his back at those words. His own parents were gone from a car accident, so he could understand Strange’s desperation. Tony might not cared for his abusive father much, but for his mother, he would raise hell and high water if there was the slimmest chance he could get her back. In perspective, he would do anything to make her dying wish come true too.

 

Looking at Strange now, Tony found some newfound respect and admiration for the man. Tony tentatively reached over and placed a hand on his arm, before looking up at Strange with determination.

 

“Alright, fine. Let’s say I’ll help you. What do you need?”

  
  
  


***

“YOU WHAT?” Clint hollered. Tony immediately regrets telling him.

 

“Shut up, Clint, before Fury hears you.” He hissed, flapping his hands at the wide-eyed Barton, who only flailed in response. “Look at it this way, we could get back at that dickhead.” Tony tried but his temp partner just shook his head in disbelief.

 

“Dude, we're talking about a rich guy that slipped out of our hands  _ seven fucking times _ ! What made you think stealing a music box for him is a good idea?” Clint seethed under his breath.

 

Tony decided to try his last card. He gave his best puppy eyes, shining them at Clint in point blank range, “Come on, it's just this one time. It's not like we haven't break and entered before. And you got experience in this, don’t you?”

 

Clint folded his arms in protest but Tony could see the man slipping from his determination. Finally Clint just groaned and wrung his hands in the air, “Fuck it, I didn't need this job anyway. What's the deets?”

 

Tony internally pumped his fists in the air in triumph. He was kind of glad Clint decided to help him. As much as he loved his honeybear Rhodey, the man would stand his ground. The man’s too good of a cop. Tony calmly started to explain everything to Clint, who leaned in to absorb every word.

 

“Strange already knows its exact location and it’s in his fourth wife’s house. And she's in Bali. Plus, she and Hammer aren’t on speaking terms. Apparently she threw a glass of wine at his latest wife’s face for something.” 

 

Clint wrinkled his nose at that, and just as he was about to say something, Tony interrupted him. “I don't know, Clint, they're women. I'm just telling you what Strange told me. So, anyway, Hammer lessened security in her house just to be petty, so now I think she only has five guards in her mansion. A walk in the park, eh?”

 

Clint scrunched his eyebrows, “What are his sources?” 

 

“Himself. Apparently, he managed to dig up all that dirt from the other wives and a few people who work with and for the Hammer’s companies. The dude's done his research multiple times.” Tony supplied. It was weird but Tony felt a wee little proud for Magicman when Clint whistled in appreciation.

 

“Dude, make sure if you marry him, he helps us dig out all the criminals dirty underwear.” Clint said with a grin.

 

“That's too dangerous for anyone, Barton, and you know that.” Tony rolled his eyes and Clint grinned wider. “But you're going to marry him, huh?”

 

“What?! No! Are you out of your mind?” Tony blurted, before shaking his head at the gleefully cackling blond, “Shut the hell up, Barton.”

 

***

They agreed to meet at Strange’s partner-in-crime’s home, which was ironically, only a few blocks away from the police station. Clint was still muttering under his breath as they walked over, complaining how it was going to be a bad idea and Tony’s ‘stupid sad puppy eyes dragging me back into the crime shithole’.

 

“Suck it up, Barton. You’ve already got your foot in the shithole a long time ago.” Tony sniped as he raps on the front door of an average looking house. He double checks the house number. 177A Bleecker Street. Yeah, this is the place.

 

He heard heavy thudding footsteps walking towards the door and a moment later, the door opens to reveal a heavy set Asian man who squints at them grumpily. “Oh, you’re here. Well, come on in. None of us are getting any younger.” He grumbled, stepping to the side to let the duo in. 

 

Tony heard Clint snort in amusement behind him as they entered. The place inside was rather big, though a bit musty. There was a grandfather clock standing beside the staircase, and shelves that held rows and rows of antiques lined the walls of the house. Tony feels that maybe Strange’s friend was a collector of sorts. The man led them into the living room where he said Strange was waiting.

 

Tony felt his heart stutter when he spotted Strange in the middle of the room. He was reading a book in a plush armchair that looked like it belonged in some old crazy cat-lady’s lair. Then when glacial eyes looked up to meet his own and Strange broke into a beautiful beaming smile, Tony’s poor heart just stopped. 

 

“Ah, Stark, you’re here. Splendid.” Strange tilted his head gently towards Clint as he reached a hand towards the cop, “And you are?”

 

Clint shook his hand with a half-amused grin, “Name’s Clint Barton. I’m the back-up Fucktard here said he’d bring.” Clint jerked his chin at Tony. Strange laughed at that, and Tony will forever deny that laugh made him feel queasy till the he drops dead. “I like you already, Barton. We’ll get along fine.” Strange grinned before gesturing for them to take a seat. 

 

Strange waved a slender hand to the unamused man beside him, “By the way, this is Wong. He’s my very good friend, and-”

 

“And was dragged into this stupid shitfest. You’re welcome. Now, let’s get to business so I can actually get back to my real job.” Wong interrupted with a grumble.

 

Clint leaned forward with an interested look, “And what is your real job?”

 

Wong stared back at him in a deadpan, “Running a bakery.”

 

~~~

If anyone asked me how two cops, a neurosurgeon and a baker is going to swipe a music box from underneath the noses of five trained, armed bodyguards, I’d answer “Only God knows”.

 

But somehow they still managed to do it. 

 

“Clint, of all the years I spent in the force, that’s the first fucking time I’ve seen a cop used a pizza box as a weapon.” Tony ripped his mask off before laughing breathlessly at the back of the van as Wong stepped on the accelerator and sped off into the night.

 

“Yeah? Well it’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing, don’t count on it.” Clint gasped back, gulping in bowlfuls of air. 

 

Tony looked over to Strange, who was sniggering even though he’s almost out of breath himself. The man looked beautiful as some of his bangs fell over his forehead. Tony held himself back from brushing away those soft curls. “Hey, Strange. You still have the music box right? I do not want to go through that again.” Tony snarked with a grin.

 

Immediately, Strange gave him a look of horror, “I thought it was with you?”

 

Tony stilled and stared back. His whole body was as quiet as stone. It was only a few seconds before the stupid bastard bursts out laughing, “I’m kidding, Stark! Asta is here with me.” He opens his rucksack and the gleaming white music box glowed back at Tony. Tony punched his shoulder angrily, snapping, “I almost had a stroke, Strange! Go fuck yourself!”

 

“Man, you two are so cute together. I hope you have babies.” Tony threw a glare at Clint, who was watching them mock-dreamily. Totally not helping.

 

Strange barked a laugh before fist-bumping Clint, “Shame that this is going to be the last time we’ll being doing this.”

 

Clint grinned back, “I know right? Next time you wanna rob something, count me in.”

 

Tony shot them both a glare, “We're still cops, you idiots.”

 

Laughing, Strange raised his hands up in mock surrender, “Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a knot. I solemnly swear I won't be up to no good.”

 

“Was that a Harry Potter reference? Tony, you gotta marry this dude.” Clint grinned at Tony, winking like the drama queen that he is.

 

Tony just sighed and rub his face wearily.

 

Wong dropped the two cops at an alley a few blocks away from Clint’s home.

 

“Right then, off with you. I hope to never see you again because it would only mean Stephen getting in trouble again.” Wong called into the back. The three men in the back shared chuckles before the cops got off the truck.

 

Just as his feet touch the ground, Tony turns to smirk at Strange, “So, back to strangers?” 

 

Strange rolled his eyes at the pun before smirking back at Tony, making his heart skip a beat.

 

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll be seeing each other very soon.” Stephen winked as he blew Tony an air kiss. Tony couldn’t stop the smirk pulling the side of his mouth as he watched the criminal shut the door behind them and the van melted into the shadows in a blink of an eye.

 


	2. Five Times Stephen failed and One Time It worked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You asked for it. Now you have it. THIS IS IT FOLKS I DID IT THESE TWO IDIOTS ARE FINALLY TOGETHER BLESS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, many to lots of cussing in case you're like, peeved at that. Yeah.

One 

“Hello, Stark. Looking ravishing as always.”

 

“ _FuCking shitballs_ , what the hell, Strange?! What're you doing here? You wanna steal something again?”

 

“Yeah, babe. I want to steal your heart.”

 

“..... That was way too fucking smooth, man. But honestly, get the fuck out of my office before I call the cops. Oh wait.”

 

* * *

 

Two 

 

 ***Ring ring* *ring ring* *ring-*** “Hello?”

 

“Meet you at the same place, same time. Saturday.” ***clicks***

 

“..... Who the hell this guy thinks he is?”

 

“Who’s that?”

 

“Your best friend.”

 

“Dude, I’m tellin ya, you guys are meant to be.”

 

“Stuff it. And get your dusty ass off my table, Braton. We need to break this case by Monday or Fury’ll have our dicks.”

 

“I dunno, man. I always thought of-”

 

“You’re disgusting. I miss Rhodey.”

* * *

  


Three 

 

_Time: 10:00 pm_

 

***firm knocking***

 

“Ughh… I’m not paid enough for this shit…” ***heavy footsteps*** “I swear to hell, Clint, if you’re thinking of crashing here because a spider came in again, I will-!

 

***silence***

 

“Oh? What the…Huh… It’s not Christmas but I guess Santa came early this year. Like, way too early.”

 

***paper unwrapping***

 

“Well, I’ll be damned. Always wanted a new belt… Hmm? ‘I’ll hold you up when you feel down’?... Whatever.”

 

* * *

 

Four 

 

“Hey, Tony. You got fanmail.”

 

“Don’t you have better things to do than that, Clint?”

 

“Hah! Come on, man, take a joke. It was April Fool’s. And this one isn’t made of newspaper clippings.”

 

“Who is it from?”

 

“No idea. But from the looks of it, it could be our dashing Prince Charming trying yet again to woo our icy cold-hearted princess.”

 

“Fuck off.” ***sounds of paper rustling* *sniffing*** “It’s scented.”

 

 ***whistles*** “Man, you’re an expensive princess. What’s it say?”

 

“.... You take my breath away.”

 

“Hah, fucking called it. What a sap. Hey, wait, what’re you doing?”

 

“It’s obviously not for me? Maybe it’s for someone else in the department. Nat has a lot of fanmail like this.”

 

“... Tony, you’re as bright as a black hole and twice as dense. Bless you, dude.”

* * *

  


Five 

 

“Strange, buddy, you’re not trying hard enough.”

 

“He wouldn’t meet me face-to-face. You’re my best bet, Barton.”

 

“Yeah, no kidding. He told me about the phone call. He was angry as hell. Thought you’re going back to robbing.”

 

“Dammit, Tony. I thought you were smarter than that. Ughh… Maybe I should just give up..”

 

“No way, buddy. Tony has been moping over you way too long. I’m sick of it. No, you two need to start dating or I’ll rip my hair out and end up as bald as Wong.”

 

“Moping? What do you mean?”

 

“Oh good lord, Tony has a big fat crush on you as big as the sun, you absolute idiot.”

 

“I… But the phone call? The card?”

 

“Oh my g…. You act like a suave casanova but you’re actually a mewling thirteen year old baby, I swear. ***gulps and glass clunk*** Fuck this, I’m the fucking Cupid now. Get your stupid ass up, Strange. We’re going to his house, loser.”

  


+1

 

***hard knocking***

 

“Coming…. Coming, dammit! I just fixed that door! What th- Uh..”

 

“Hello, Tony.”

 

“Steph- Uh, Strange. What’re you doing here? How did you even know where my house is?”

 

“I’ve got my ways... May I come in?”

 

“Uh, why? I mean” ***clears throat*** “What for?”

 

“There’s something I’d like to ask you about, if that’s alright with you? Nothing sinister, I swear…. Somewhere warmer maybe? It’s terribly cold out here.”

 

“..... Yeah, sure. Okay. Come in.”

 

* * *

  
  
It didn't even take half a year.

 

It was a quiet Wednesday morning at The Karma-Touch Bakery when Wong was just walking out of the back, with a whole new batch of cookies when he spotted his friend in his shop. And half a second later, he noticed that Stephen brought someone with him.

“I thought you were joking when you said you had a bakery, Wong.” Tony snickered as he tried to sneak a cookie from the tray but hissed when the hot pastry burned him for his nuisance.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Wong groaned as he sets down the tray of goodies tiredly before swatting at Tony's offending hand before he could try again, “It's not even August yet.”

Stephen winked at his old friend, “You know I stop at nothing when I've got my eye on something.” Then he glowered at Tony, who blew on his fingers, “In other news, you're an absolute idiot, Tony Stark.”

"Hey, watch that pretty mouth of yours, Strange."

"Aw, you think my mouth is pretty. Hear that, Wong?"

 "Oh for fuck's sake.” Wong muttered and he moved the stock away hastily as the couple started to flirt, ahem, I mean, quarrel. Buddha, Jesus, Allah, Zeus whoever is up there, bless Wong with the patience of the universe to deal with these two idiot white boys.

* * *

 

You can imagine Clint Barton's reaction when motherfucking Magicman himself walked into the police department to drop off Tony's lunch. He didn’t even think that his idea would’ve worked.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I TRIED THEREFORE IT COUNTS. Kudos and comments are my sunshine and so are you thank


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